


Between the Lines

by suezahn



Series: Kismet [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bounty Hunters, F/M, Hoth, Kissing, Love, Ord Mantell, Romance, Sexy, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6149308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suezahn/pseuds/suezahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fallout from Han & Leia's mission to Ord Mantell spills over into the icy corridors of Echo Base on Hoth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters depicted herein are the property of Lucasfilm, Disney, etc. My only profit is in the form of readers' feedback. Please be generous!  
> Note: This story was originally written in 1995 and has now be revised and updated for consistency with the rest of the Kismet series. A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.
> 
> The original story was awarded STAR aWARdS Best Long Story 1995.

Love is a warfare: sluggards be dismissed,  
No faint-heart ’neath this banner may enlist.  
Storms, darkness, anguish, weary trails you’ll find  
On love’s campaign, and toil of every kind.  
—Ovid, _The Love Poems_

* * *

 

Ice crunched loudly as the landing pads of the _Millennium Falcon_ settled onto the frozen cave floor of the Rebel Alliance’s new base on Hoth.

Han Solo killed the retros before casting a dubious gaze out the cockpit canopy at the carved-out ice cave the engineers had fashioned from what could best be described as a pile of rock and snow. After a silent moment, he turned to frown at his hairy copilot. “What have we gotten ourselves into this time?”

Chewbacca did a double-take before returning his attention to shutting down the ship’s systems. « _We?_ »

Solo stared out the viewport again as morbid curiosity made him study the ceiling of the ice cave. “Do I need to remind you that sticking around long enough to help them relocate to this snowball was your brilliant idea?”

The Wookiee shrugged. «It was my suggestion but _your_ decision.»

Getting to his feet, Solo shook his head in exasperation. It was no use arguing with the Wookiee, especially when he was right.

Resting his hands on the _Falcon_ ’s forward control dash, Han gave their new base a closer look. Thermal-suited flight techs and other military personnel hustled throughout the base, weaving and working between the assortment of X-wings and terrain speeders parked in double rows.

Compared to Serricci, the last base they’d been forced to abandon, this place was positively claustrophobic. It was no wonder this particular cell of the Alliance had been compelled to divide its personnel between two new smaller bases, the one here on Hoth and another on Sullust. There simply wasn’t enough room at either base to house the entire complement of fighters and transport craft. As a result, Hoth would be understaffed, at least until more trained personnel could arrive.

Finished with his portion of shutdown duties, Chewbacca seemed to realize that his friend was actively lingering. Unable to resist, the Wookiee settled back into his customized bucket seat and asked with a nonchalant hoot, «What, no royal welcoming committee?»

Han turned around, his frown deepening in annoyance at seeing his partner’s pseudo-innocence. Chewbacca, as usual, was too perceptive for Han’s peace of mind. “Wise ass.”

«You’ve barely seen her in the seventeen days since Ord Mantell. Perhaps she’s warmed up again since then.»

At hearing that now-hated name, Solo reached above his head to switch off all the remaining systems save climate control and lighting. “On this ice ball?” he muttered as he passed between their seats on his way toward the cockpit exit. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Frustrated” was too mild a description for how Han felt when he thought about Princess Leia Organa, sacred icon of the Alliance and all-around propaganda minister. The fact was she’d actually grown quite warm toward him, until all chaos had broken loose during their recent “simple” mission to Ord Mantell. It was then that he’d come to the painful realization that he really had no choice but to leave, before either she or the Rebellion was endangered any more. He still hadn’t told her in as many words, but he’d made the rather uncharacteristic chivalrous decision at that time to push her away rather than take advantage of their budding romance. Thus, he’d rebuffed her during their return trip to Serricci. As could be expected, she didn’t seem to be taking the abrupt reversal well.

She’d retreated to a cool indifference when not outright hostile, something Han found more maddening than her previous insistence that theirs was a business relationship only. Most of this was of his own doing, he admitted. As if that wasn’t enough, his willpower was proving weak; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and yet he couldn’t resist trying to draw some sort of emotional confession out of her. It was as if some perverse part of him needed to hear it, even if it would do neither of them any good.

He still hadn’t gotten a chance to confront her about this. They’d returned from the mission just in time to join in the forced evacuation of Serricci. Since then, Han and Chewbacca had been busy shuttling back and forth between Hoth and the other newly established base on Sullust. Now feeling as if he and Leia were back to square one again, Han knew on a rational level that he should just give up and leave her be. After all, there was little chance he would survive a confrontation with Jabba the Hutt, and yet he kept wishing for a different outcome and couldn’t help but pursue her. With his constant flip-flopping, it was no wonder why she was furious.

A short time later, after donning an under-layer of thermal clothing and a dark blue flight jacket, Han stepped out of the _Falcon_ and into the sheltered yet chilly air of the base. Before he’d reached the bottom of the ramp, however, a pungent aroma having nothing to do with spaceship mechanics or base engineering assaulted his nose. Drawing up short on the incline, Solo dared another cautious whiff, then grimaced and glanced around with renewed curiosity. Due to its sheer unpleasantness, he judged the rank odor organic waste by-product. “Great,” he grumbled. He could just imagine the latest Alliance recruiting slogan: “Join the Rebellion and discover all the exotic smells of the galaxy.”

“Captain Solo, sir.”

As the Rebel soldier neared, Han recognized the man from their previous base. He stepped down onto the white icy flightdeck. “Hello, Major.”

“It’s good to see you made it here in one piece, sir,” Major Derlin said.

“No thanks to the Empire. What in Kessel’s Hell is that disgusting smell?”

“Oh.” Derlin offered a little grin, his white teeth flashing beneath his thick blond mustache. “That’s High Command’s solution to the problems we’re having adjusting the speeders to the extreme cold outside.”

“What’s their plan? Baffle Imperial sensors with that wafting odor?” Solo sarcastically ventured.

Familiar with the spacer’s brand of humor, Derlin chuckled. “It couldn’t hurt. Actually, someone suggested using live mounts that were naturally accustomed to this type of climate.”

“Last time I heard, this place was lifeless.”

“Far as we know, sir, it is. The Tauntauns—that’s what they’re called—were shipped in from some other backwater planet in the Rim. The temperature drop here at nightfall is still too severe, even for these animals, but at least we’ve got a way to run base surveillance during the day.”

“Tauntauns, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” Derlin hesitated, then offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll get used to the smell. Sooner or later.”

Solo did not look convinced.

“It could be worse, sir. You could’ve been the lucky freighter to haul them here in the first place. From what I understand, Captain Shaelt’s main hold still reeks of them.”

The Corellian sighed at being forced to accept yet another inconvenience in the name of freedom fighting. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced around, then made a vague gesture to their surroundings. “Which way to the Command Center?”

Derlin turned and pointed. “Follow that row of flight-deck lights to the corridor hatch at the end, take a right and then your second left. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” Solo waved a quick salute and headed according to the directions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

"So I told him to stick it in his afterburners.”

“You didn’t!” Struggling not to laugh, Princess Leia Organa almost dropped her mug of steaming kaffe. She set her drink down on the table and looked back up at her lunchtime companion and confidant. “What did he do?”

Lieutenant Keris Aldric, chief of communications on Echo Base, was at the moment playing to her royal audience with a flair that deserved applause. She made a fluid shrug of her shoulders and picked up her own mug. “He stormed out.”

Leia’s dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “Ah, that probably explains why he left early on his mission to Argus.” Her expression grew into a frown as her own mind made uncomfortable comparisons with another smuggler pilot under the Alliance’s hire. She toyed with her mug, swirling its contents. “You don’t miss him?”

“A little, I guess,” Keris confessed. “It wasn’t all sweetness and light, though. He could get on a kick about some inane problem and never quit about it. Take those blasted Tauntauns. If I’d had to listen one more time to his complaining about how he couldn’t get the stink out of his ship, I’d have screamed.”

The princess nodded in sympathy with her friend’s frustration. She knew too well what it was like to deal with someone who could be very obnoxious when he tried. Even though Keris admitted from the start that she hadn’t intended Captain Wendel Shaelt to become a permanent mate, the last few months had led Leia to believe that Keris’s opinion had changed. Leia was thus surprised by her friend’s nonchalance. Goddess knew, she felt anything but casual whenever sparring with Han Solo. “I don’t know how you can be so calm about his leaving.”

“Oh, he’s a little miffed right now, but he’s due back soon enough.” She shrugged again. “We’ll probably work it out.” A devilish glint entered her eyes and she winked at the princess. “The makeup sex can be worth—”

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by a loud crackle that came from the public address system and echoed within the small confines of the Mess. An instant later, an amplified and staccato masculine voice blurted out: “Testing, one. T—ree. Testing, one—” The sequence began to break up into more static, then cut off entirely. There were a few laughs from other personnel in the cafeteria, and both women grinned at each other in amused exasperation. It was yet the latest problem to confront them in their efforts to establish the base.

“Wish I knew what’s playing havoc with the PA system,” Keris sighed. “It keeps cutting in and out on its own.” She was responsible for maintaining reliable communications. Naturally, she was also one of the first to hear about it when things didn’t work. “Just when we seem to get all the bugs worked out of the system, we’ve got to move out and start over from scratch.”

“I know.” Leia gave a reluctant glance at the chronometer set in the sleeve of her thermal suit and then reached for her white gloves as she slid out of the booth. “Break’s over. You’ll have to keep me updated.”

Keris gave Leia a knowing leer as she got to her feet. “As if you don’t have enough scandal on your hands.”

Leia had known Keris for nearly two years now and certainly well enough to expect such a taunt. She fielded it with the practiced finesse of someone used to prying. “There is no scandal, but people are going to believe what they want to believe. I can’t do anything about that.”

Leia knew that her companion was on a crusade to drag out of her the sordid details of her intriguing relationship with the Corellian smuggler Han Solo. While Keris’s decade of additional experience and insight put the princess at a serious disadvantage at times, Leia was determined to keep her silence, and wouldn’t budge a centim. Keris also seemed to be aware that something significant had happened on Ord Mantell because the tension between princess and smuggler had ramped up to a new pitch.

However, beyond the standard answer that Captain Solo was “just a friend,” followed by a recitation of all his leadership and piloting abilities, Leia was remaining silent. Of course, what she hadn’t said could fill a library of data disks.

As they began walking back towards the Command Center, Keris continued with her prying. “So, when’s Captain Solo due back?”

“Any day, I suppose. I really don’t keep that close of an eye on his schedule.” Leia ended that statement with a look that dared any further prodding. She was in charge of supplies and thus of shipping as well—it was her job to know exactly when the _Millennium Falcon_ would be returning.

“Riiiiiight,” Keris drawled. Then she silently snapped her gloved fingers and reached into one of the pockets of her insulated coat. “I almost forgot. Here, this is for you.”

As they walked, Leia held out her hand and watched as a golden coin was placed in her outstretched glove. “What’s this?” Upon closer inspection, Leia could see that it was an old and worn decorative token, probably of some historical value. An interesting but rather loose depiction of a bird in flight was imprinted on one side and a short phrase filled the other side. After a moment, Leia read aloud: “Free of spirit, free to dream.”

Mind abruptly elsewhere, Leia came to a halt and used her other hand to flip the coin over once more. She stared at the emblem, getting the distinct impression that it was as traveled as it was old. There was something familiar about it.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

Leia’s attention returned to the present and she blinked at her companion. “What is it?”

“A membership token from back when there used to be a Spacer’s Guild. Now it’s more of a lucky piece. You keep it with you all the time and it’s supposed to bring you good luck—so you never get the shakes while flying, I’m guessing. That’s what he told me, anyway.”

“Who?”

“Wendel.”

“Oh.”

“He’s Corellian too, you know.”

Leia absorbed that tidbit of information. “No, I didn’t know that.... So why are you giving this to me?”

“Actually, it’s supposed to be from both of us.” Keris cocked an eyebrow in gentle amusement as she reached out to tap the coin nestled in Leia’s palm. “We figured you needed all the help you could get dealing with Solo.”

Leia didn’t know whether to laugh, feel offended, or take the meaning of their gift to heart. She was sure, however, that she didn’t need busybodies arranging her affairs. “Thanks a lot, but I’m starting to wonder if a big stick wouldn’t be more effective.”

The lieutenant leaned closer as if to impart some universal secret. “Men developed stubbornness into a science. We fashioned it into an art form.”

Dark eyes widening in feigned wonder, Leia shook her head as she resumed walking. “You’re simply full of wisdom, aren’t you?”

“Go on, laugh now,” Keris teased as she stayed in step beside the princess, “but everybody sees the way you two—”

Both were forced to come to a sudden halt as Han Solo swung around the approaching corner as if he had the entire base to himself. Unable to stop fast enough, the collision between smuggler and princess was unavoidable. Startled by his appearance from out of nowhere, Leia let out a little yelp as her boots slipped on the icy floor. She flung her arms out to regain her balance and the lucky talisman fell from her glove. Although also caught off guard, Solo recovered fast enough to catch Leia by the wrist and upper arm before she could fall flat on her seat. He hauled her back up so that she could replant both feet on the hard floor.

Han let out a little laugh. “Whoa, easy there, Your Worship. What’s the hurry? I’m back.”

Leia’s initial surprise was mixed with embarrassment and growing indignation; she truly hadn’t expected him to arrive for another day or two. “You....What do you think you’re doing?! Why are you back so soon? Who do you think you are, anyway, flying around corners like some—”

Han leaned in close to cut her off in mid-rant. “One at a time, Sweetheart.” He gave her a palpable once-over in obvious appreciation of the tight fit of her Alliance-issue thermal suit, a new look he seemed to approve of. He dragged his eyes back up to hers and offered his most charming smile. “Did you miss me?”

Her indignation surged to the surface as she planted her fists on her hips and ignored his bait. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be hauling equipment to Sullust, not disrupting base operations by—”

Han shook his head in patronizing disagreement. “You hired me because I’m fast, remember?” Han arched an eyebrow as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Or at least that’s the excuse you gave to High Command, isn’t it?”

Leia’s glare was hot enough to burn through the thickest Hoth glacier, yet it seemed to have little effect on her target. “You’re suffering hallucinations, Captain. Perhaps you should report to the Med Center.”

Han threw his shoulders back as he straightened up to his full height. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with _me_.”

“Good. Then I’ll see that General Rieekan reassigns you immediately.” Inspiration struck and her smile filled with satisfaction. “From what I understand, they’re in need of volunteers to ride the Tauntauns. That should keep you quite busy.”

He coolly measured her sincerity, then leaned in close once again, his tone an intimate rumble. “Is that a threat, Your Worship? I’m a hired freighter pilot, not some farmhand. Maybe it’s time I moved on if you’re beginning to confuse the two.”

Leia stood her ground, weak knees be damned. She would not be intimidated by his close proximity, nor by his words. Not this time. “Maybe you’re right,” she answered, her chin tilted up in defiance. _I’m calling your bluff, you insufferable ass_.

There was a visible shift in Han’s expression as he met her unwavering gaze. Leia’s normal response was a heated denial, but it seemed to dawn on him now that all bets were off after Ord Mantell. She had changed the stakes and upped the ante. 

Ice crunched off to the side as Lieutenant Aldric shifted her stance. Reminded of their attentive audience, Leia tightened her jaw with forced casualness. “Excuse me, but I’m due back at my station. I suggest you pay more attention to where you’re going before someone gets hurt.”

“I’ll do that,” Han muttered, breaking eye contact as he sent a quick glance toward Leia friend, clearly still thrown off by her shift in tack.

Leia stepped around him within the narrow corridor and marched with a purpose toward the Command Center. _Good. Let him stew on that for a change_. 

Keris trotted to catch up with her a moment later. “That went well.…”

Not about to stop her double-time pace, Leia shook her head in frustration. “Never mind.”

“Care to explain that little scene?”

Leia skidded to a halt just outside the Command Center door and turned a glare on her companion. “Goddess! I would think it’s quite obvious. That was so...typical.”

Keris appeared to scrutinize the princess for a second. It wasn’t the first battle of wits she’d witnessed between the volatile couple, Leia realized, but it was one of the angriest. Any caution during their public spats was abandoned; the personal agendas couldn’t be clearer if spelled out on a comp screen. “Not that it’s any of my business—” Keris began in a careful tone.

Leia gave her friend an exasperated as-if-that-would-stop-you look and turned to trigger open the door. 

Only half-staffed due to personnel shifts between the bases, the Command Center was quiet. The computers, plotters, and other equipment left little room for the personnel. Thick cables snaked across the floor, making maneuvering through the chamber difficult and potentially hazardous. As they approached their posts, two swivel seats along one bank of computer screens and control panels, they both frowned at what the technicians had been up to during their midday break. The lieutenant’s computer screen had been removed, the internal electronics exposed and half disassembled.

“Great,” Keris mumbled, gesturing at the disemboweled contents of her scanner as she flopped into her chair and reached for her com headset. Out of habit, she went to hang it around her neck, then seemed to realize the futility and tossed it on the countertop of the communication console between them. “Look at this mess.”

Leia settled into the chair to Keris’s left. “At least you won’t get bored putting that back together,” she suggested with a touch of satisfaction. She hoped it would be enough to distract her friend from what she’d just witnessed in the corridor. 

It was Keris’s turn to send a caustic glare. “That’s some comfort. I’ll remember that the next time you need any help with inventory.” She poked through the wires and circuits for a moment, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in the work. She glanced around them. Seeing no one within earshot, she looked back to the princess, who’d already begun to tap keys to direct the columns of supplies and financial figures scrolling across her screen. “Can I ask you something personal?”

Leia debated whether or not to respond. She stared unseeing at the numbers on her screen, then damned her better judgment and nodded her permission.

Without further preamble, Keris dove in with a whispered question. “What happened on Ord Mantell? You’ve been dodging the question for weeks. You two were never this hostile before. Something’s changed and if you don’t tell me, I _will_ start guessing on my own.…”

Leia made her own cautionary glance around them to discourage any possible eavesdroppers. Only then did she meet the lieutenant’s steady but coaxing gaze. If there was one thing about their friendship that the princess appreciated most, it was this sort of opportunity to speak of personal matters with another woman and not worry about ulterior political, social, or sexual motives. Leia’s inexperience with matters of the heart was no longer a secret between them. 

Although she’d dealt with a continuous stream of suitors before and during her short tenure in the late Imperial Senate, she’d never considered any of those men seriously. There were many reasons to marry an influential woman of royal heritage, none of them having to do with true affection. Maybe she was an impractical romantic to expect more, but she’d always found the overwhelming majority of those men boring or boorish. She believed she would recognize the right man when he crossed her path, and until that spectacular, fireworks-exploding moment, she would practice the proper etiquette of flirting and keep those men at a safe distance. The trouble for Leia now was that the spectacular, fireworks-exploding moment seemed to have happened with the wrong man.

Leia knew that Keris, on the other hand, had once been happily married. Her husband had died several years ago during an Imperial raid. Now in a semi-serious relationship with another man (a Corellian at that!), she possessed a wealth of knowledge that Leia found intriguing. She proved more than willing to offer advice whenever Leia asked, and even when she didn’t. She also provided comfort without the usual strings attached, an invaluable rapport Leia had never enjoyed within the royal courts or senatorial halls. Even with Luke, whom she regarded as a close friend, there were taboo subjects Leia couldn’t bring herself to discuss with him, Han Solo in particular. If anyone could understand her predicament, Keris could—couldn’t she?

With grim determination, aware that she was about to let down her last shield of protection, Leia drew a deep breath. “I told you, the mission itself went perfectly. We’ve got a full Bacta station on each base now because of it. The problem was…what happened afterward.” Keris remained silent, patiently waiting for her to elaborate. Leia struggled to find the right words. “You were right. You were right all along.”

“Oh,” the older woman responded in simple realization. “About Han?”

“About both of us.” Leia rested an elbow on the console and rubbed her forehead. “About waiting for the right signal. We were being very civil with one another, then out of the blue he told me he’d decided to stay with us. I mean, stay on indefinitely if it was okay with me, no more threats of leaving.”

Clearly fascinated, Keris gave a small nod of understanding. 

“I don’t know,” Leia wondered aloud. “Maybe it was the atmosphere of the place, or just our moods, or the wine, the dancing.… You were right about that dress, too.”

“Wine and dancing.” Keris nodded, as if no more explanation was needed. “That Majority gift was from him, wasn’t it?”

Leia nodded in confirmation. In her anger following their return from the mission, she’d forced all of these other thoughts and feelings to the back of her mind. Now, however, as she drew them back out for examination, the longing and hurt returned with them. “He was charming, attentive…and I couldn’t resist anymore. I didn’t want to.” A look of surprise crossed Keris’s face. Leia realized her friend was jumping to the wrong conclusion and waved a negating hand to stop her. “No, no, we didn’t…you know…but I think we came very close. I stopped it before.…”

“And he’s mad at you now?”

“No, he wasn’t angry about that at all. In fact, he.…” Leia fumbled again, just as befuddled now as she was then. “He was so nice.”

Keris was smiling now, but her head tipped to the side. “That surprises you?”

“Well, yes. No. I don’t know.” She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. All this was beginning to give her a headache. 

“You’re mad at yourself for stopping?” Keris speculated.

Leia shook her head again, but then tempered it with a little shrug of doubt. “I was a little at first, yes, but things were moving so fast. I needed time to think.”

Keris gave a single nod, as if now spotting the problem. “You’re not supposed to think.”

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

Keris chuckled. “I told you he was a smart man.”

“Congratulations.”

“I’m still not seeing how we’re getting from one extreme to the other here, though.”

Elbow still resting on the console, Leia propped a cheek on her gloved fist. “It was later. We were shopping when two men started following us. I don’t know the details because Han wouldn’t tell me, but they’d somehow heard about the bounty on him and decided to try their luck.”

“Ohhh.”

“We managed to escape, barely.” She was quiet for a long moment. Even now, she wasn’t sure how she really felt about what had happened. The range of emotions she’d experienced in that short span of two days still left her feeling muddled. “Despite all that, I thought we’d reached an understanding. I thought maybe things had changed. But suddenly he was very cold, and he refused my help. He just switched off. And now we’re back to this again, but only worse.”

The look of enjoyment at learning of their developing relationship had slipped away from Keris’s face. She looked sad now. “You think he’s just playing with you now,” she announced in a quiet voice.

Leia gave a slow nod of her head. “For two years he’s flirted with and propositioned me, and then when I finally let my guard down, he rejects me. This was exactly why I resisted for so long—I was afraid he’d hurt me, and now he has.” She let out a heavy sigh and sank back into her chair. She had hoped that getting this off her chest would make her feel better, but it hadn’t—not one iota. Her heart ached in a way she’d never experienced or expected.

Keris remained quiet for a long sympathetic minute as she seemed to absorb everything. “Maybe there’s more to it, Leia. Men do dumb things sometimes. Maybe he’s feeling guilty that you were endangered.”

Leia looked up at her, saying nothing. She’d suspected as much, but it still didn’t ease the pain. 

“I know—that doesn’t help,” Keris added. “You’re still attracted to him.”

Leia felt heat rise in her cheeks and her eyes dropped to gaze unseeing at her comp screen. Vivid memories of his features in flattering shadows returned; quiet moments during their mission on Ord Mantell and earlier that she’d treasured. There had been times when she’d found him so handsome that she’d forgotten to breathe, her mind filled with all sorts of fantasies, some innocent and some astonishingly graphic. Several times, he’d caught her staring in that mesmerized state and she’d been without a single coherent response. She’d always felt a strong physical attraction to him, but until their trip of discovery she’d never realized just how much.

Solo was so unlike any of the men she normally dealt with. He was the first person to make her doubt her ability to read people, to doubt herself. Time and again, her instincts had warned against believing the image he presented to others. The fireworks she’d been waiting for all these years had exploded with breathtaking power that night on the couch in their hotel suite. There was no denying it anymore. But why did she have to fall for such an unconventional and irreverent and unattainable man when there was a galaxy of perfectly nice men out there more than willing to bow to her every wish? 

“Yes, he’s gorgeous,” Leia whispered with an unexpected huskiness. “But that’s hardly a foundation for a meaningful relationship.”

“No, it isn’t,” her friend agreed. “That’s what you want?”

“I don’t know what I want anymore, Keris.”

“Just my opinion here, Leia, but I don’t think he would’ve bothered for this long if he didn’t think you were worth it. If all he’s after is another conquest, he’d have given up already.”

“Then I don’t understand.” Not sure with whom she was feeling more impatient, Solo or herself, Leia scowled. She was tired of the conflicting messages they continued to exchange. “If he’s serious, why doesn’t he act like it now? I wish he would just once.…”

Leia fell silent, not knowing what she wanted to say next. “This war has cost me nearly everything. I can’t love someone who’s going to walk out of my life at any moment. I can’t.” Leia closed her eyes as she realized just how eager and ready she was to do just that, if only he reciprocated. Love. She’d said the word herself. It was a frightening discovery to learn how the ultimate exposure of her inner desires relied solely upon such an unstable factor.

Leia turned to her readout panel, desperate to immerse herself in a protective layer of duty. She didn’t want to learn just how deeply those feelings ran within her, how much influence the Corellian had acquired over her passions. She felt mortally afraid of the pain she would have to deal with if he left. Worst of all, she knew deep down that her debate was already moot; hers was no longer a question of “if” but of “when.”

Keris reached out a comforting hand and squeezed Leia’s forearm, pulling her back into the conversation. “Leia, he can complain all he wants about the Alliance, but he’s still here, two years and three bases later.” She jostled the princess until she looked up. “Okay, so it’s not burned in durasteel, but I’d call that a commitment.”

Leia watched her companion, unable to accept that logic so easily. “Then why doesn’t he just come out and say that?”

“Maybe you haven’t realized this yet, Princess, but you aren’t the only one who’s at risk of getting hurt.” Keris sighed and made an offering gesture with one hand. “I mean, look at the kind of encouragement he’s gotten so far.”

Leia continued to look doubtful as Keris’s observations sank in. The thought that Han Solo could be afraid of her own ultimate rejection had never occurred to her. He’d always seemed so confident and certain of what he wanted, or at least he’d been more successful than her at appearing that way. “Do you really think he feels the same way?” she wondered in a soft voice.

Keris shrugged. “Hard to say, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? How many times has he—?”

Keris was interrupted by the unanticipated appearance of General Rieekan, who stepped up between them. He rested his hands on their corresponding shoulders, then leaned down to say, “Remember that our personnel address system is malfunctioning. I would suggest unplugging that headset if you two are going to continue this line of conversation.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

"Hey, Luke!” An increasingly habitual frown marring his forehead, Solo stepped around a partially assembled T-47 Airspeeder engine and rapped his bare knuckles on the metallic fuselage of the gutted Snowspeeder. “You in there?”

Luke Skywalker whacked his knuckle as his grip on the hydrospanner slipped. He let out a little curse and stuck the injured joint in his mouth as he emerged from the opened cockpit. Upon seeing who had startled him, however, the young commander’s expression brightened and he yanked the knuckle out of his mouth. “You’re back!”

“Observant as ever, Kid. You got a minute?”

“Sure, Han.” Luke grabbed a rag draped over the edge of the cockpit and wiped the grime off his hands. Noticing the unpleasant expression on his friend’s face, Luke grinned. “Whoops. I take it you’ve already run into the princess.”

“In more ways than one,” Han supplied in disgust.

“She’s not too pleased with you. You’re lucky you were out of firing range for a while.”

“So I’ve noticed. That’s the thanks I get for helping her out. Listen,” Solo started, attempting to switch topics. “When you’ve got some spare time, me and Chewie could use an extra hand realigning the Falcon’s alluvial dampers. She took a hit over Serricci and they were knocked out of sync.”

“Sure. I can help out right now. Until the mech techs are ready to refit that engine, I’m just wasting time right now anyway,” Luke said as he made a loose gesture towards the drive mechanism of the atmospheric fighter.

“The sooner the better. I’ll never get Jabba off my back if I’m forever stuck in some blasted Rebel hideout working repairs.”

Luke had begun to extricate himself from the tight confines of the Snowspeeder cockpit, but he paused upon hearing the Corellian’s words. It had been a relatively long time since he’d heard Han talk about leaving the Alliance.

_So that’s why Leia’s been in such a foul mood lately._

Han and Leia usually bragged, quipped, or otherwise bitched about the times they’d worked together. On this occasion, however, Leia had remained close-mouthed about her successful mission to Ord Mantell. Although Luke hadn’t gotten the chance to grill Solo for details, the smuggler wasn’t volunteering any information either, and that was definitely out of character. By whatever private agreement, the reluctant duo was keeping Ord Mantell to themselves.

Far from jealous, Luke instead felt curious and not a little disappointed. Some time ago, he’d accepted the rather obvious fact that Han was a better match for Leia. They stormed with one another at times, but otherwise seemed well-balanced. He thought their relationship was progressing mind-numbingly slow at times, but it was progressing just the same and he was glad. As entertaining as the arguments could be, the couple’s routine was getting old and Luke was no longer the only Rebel on base willing to play matchmaker if it meant bringing some peace to their little corner of the civil war.

Han saw Luke’s hesitation and seemed to correctly interpret the look of concern. “Save the lecture for your cadets,” he said sharply as he stepped back to allow Luke room to descend from the fighter.

Luke slid down the hanging ladder and dropped to the icy deck with practiced agility, then rubbed his hands together to warm up his fingers. “You know I gave up lecturing you a long time ago. Like my uncle used to say, there’s no use pounding your head against the wall when there are perfectly good doors.”

“Thanks,” Han responded dryly. “That’s just the kind of thirdhand wisdom I need right now.”

“Any time. There’s more where that came from,” Luke replied with a grin as he stooped down to shut off the remote for the space heater he’d been using to warm up the cockpit during his work. “So, how did your shuttling to Sullust—”

Luke’s sentence was interrupted by the sudden but now familiar sharp crackle of the personnel address system cutting in. At first, there was a stream of unintelligible noise, snippets of words and digital chatter, but then with atypical clarity came the words, “—bored putting that back together.”

Luke straightened up, ready to joke about the unpredictability of the base intercom.

“That’s Leia,” Han said with an abrupt intensity that made Luke halt mid-thought and pay more attention to the broadcast conversation as well.

“—ask you something personal? What…Ord Mantell? You’ve…Something’s changed and…start guessing on my own—”

“Leia and Lieutenant Aldric,” Han amended. His alert posture and the set of his dark eyebrows demonstrated his concentration.

“Yeah,” Luke stated. “That’s definitely them. Maybe we should go tell them—”

Han gave up on his vigorous hushing gestures towards Skywalker and clamped a large hand over his friend’s mouth as he hissed, “Will you put a lid on it, Kid?! I’m trying to listen.”

“—don’t know. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the place, or just our moods, or the wine, the dancing…from him, wasn’t it?

“He was charming, attentive…couldn’t resist anymore. I didn’t want to. No, no, we didn’t…you know…but I think we came very close. I stopped it before—”

Luke had pulled away from Han and was about to stress again that they should warn her of the open link, but then her last words made him stop in his tracks and look at the smuggler as if just seeing him for the first time. So something had happened between them after all. Now it was all starting to fall into place.

“—thought we had reached an understanding. I thought maybe…—very cold, and he refused my—”

The link began to break up and Han growled in frustration. His eyes scanned the carved-out hangar ceiling for the PA speakers as if willing them to continue broadcasting.

Having heard enough, Luke stepped out of Solo’s reach and directed a chastising glare at him. He was disturbed by the look of gratification that had transformed the smuggler’s face. “Han, that’s as bad as eavesdropping.”

Han tossed back a look of disbelief at Skywalker’s exercise in virtue. “It’s over the frackin’ intercom! What do you want me to do, stick snow in my ears? Besides, she’s talking about me. That makes it my business. Now shut up, would you?”

“—afraid he’d just hurt—attracted to him. Yes, he’s gorgeous. But that’s hardly…—war has cost me nearly everything. I can’t love—”

With a final uncomfortably loud crackle of static, the intercom switched off as abruptly as it had cut in.

Luke glanced around, now conscious of just how quiet the entire hangar had become. Deck crews, mech techs, pilots, and soldiers alike seemed to have halted mid-task, their heads tipped upwards in positions of attentive listening, just as caught up in the remote drama. Then someone made a muffled comment, no doubt at the princess’ expense, and a wave of laughter rippled from one end of the hangar to the other from the inappropriate joke as it was passed along.

Mortified for Leia’s sake, Luke turned back to look at Han and wasn’t surprised to find that Solo’s expression had turned unreadable as he stared unseeing at the metallic innards of the Snowspeeder. Any sign of gratification had disappeared. Then he, too, seemed to become aware of the amused looks from the surrounding base personnel directed toward him. Luke was suddenly reminded of an explosive incident back on Serricci over nine months ago when Han had caught some incautious gossipers in action, and he tensed in case he’d need to intervene again.

Instead of anger, though, Han remained atypically subdued as he nodded his head towards the side alcove in which the Falcon was docked. “Come on, Kid. I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he growled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

With thermal headgear, goggles, and a thick scarf tucked under his arm, Han Solo leaned against an icy stalagmite. His attention was divided between watching the Tauntaun handler tack up his mount, and a careful study of the fit of his thick insulated gloves as he mulled over recent events.

The repairs he’d planned for his ship had gone fast in the last few days, until yesterday morning when, standing beneath the _Falcon_ with Chewie beside him, he’d realized there was nothing left that he could afford to fix or that the Rebel Alliance stores would supply. Chewbacca had queried, with his typical pointedness, what they should do next. Equally adept at reading his copilot’s unspoken thoughts, Han had felt that the Wookiee’s taunt was overkill. They both knew there was no longer any official reason to stay.

Han would never accuse Luke Skywalker of good timing, but he had to admit that, for once, the kid had entered right on cue. Luke had come bounding up to them at that moment disproportionately excited, Han reflected now, considering what they were about to do in the name of duty. 

“You didn’t sign up yet?” Luke had asked with mild disappointment, obviously having expected Solo to join the growing roster of Tauntaun jockeys. “We could really use the help, Han. You’d balance out the rotation of riders.”

Han had been torn between his growing desire to finally deal with Jabba the Hutt and his disinclination to leave the Rebellion now that he knew for a fact, no matter how he’d acquired the information, that Princess Leia wanted him as more than “just a friend.”

The timing was ironic, moronic, and typical. He’d found himself forced to make a quick decision. Hadn’t he already put off paying Jabba for years? What difference would a few more days make? Chewie could find something to do to pass the time.

Han’s thoughts were brought back to the present by the arrival of Luke. The young man was decked out in his own Alliance-issue cold-weather gear. “Hi, Han. All set?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Kid.” Han pushed away from the pillar of frozen water and began gearing up. “Let’s get this over with.” The Corellian pilot stepped up to his saddled mount and grasped the proffered reigns from the handler. With a helpful boost from another handler, he swung himself up into the saddle of the Tauntaun.

Luke was visibly dismayed at hearing his dispassionate tone, and he said nothing but just watched as Han tried to settle himself comfortably into the saddle. Something clearly was bothering Luke but Han wasn’t going to dwell on it.

“Hey, snap out of it or we’ll never get those sensors placed before nightfall,” Han said, frowning down at him from his mount. Forced to shift in his saddle to keep Skywalker in view as the Tauntaun sidled around, Han wrapped the reins more securely around his hands, and looked back down again. “You okay?”

“Sure, Han.” He gave a teasing salute towards his friend and walked up to his own mount to pat her on the snout. “Come on, girl. Let’s show that Corellian what real riding’s all about.”

Recognizing the tossed gauntlet, Han let out a self-confident chuckle as he tugged the reins of his mount in the direction of the open hangar shield door. “Last one to the first marker’s a Hutt’s uncle!” With that challenge, Solo let out a whoop and prodded his ride until she was racing past the rows of X-wings toward the shield door.

“Cheat!” Luke accused with a laugh as he mounted his own Tauntaun and spurred his ride to follow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

"Chewie!”

The preoccupied Wookiee looked up from his busy work, spotted his captain, and let out a frustrated bellow. «Next time, you can overhaul the ion conduits yourself. It was your idea.» For added emphasis, Chewbacca waved the macrofuser he’d been using, then whacked it against the _Millennium Falcon_ ’s hull. 

Wincing at the latest scratch inflicted on his ship, Han held up both hands in placation for the sake of the _Falcon_ as much as his own well-being. “All right, don’t lose your temper. I’ll come right back and give you a hand.”

«Famous last words,» Chewbacca grumbled before turning back to his work. He had a good idea where his captain was heading and knew from experience that Han was usually anything but helpful following a confrontation with the princess. «Humans!»

Sometimes, he just could not understand their mating habits.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

_Wookiees!_ Han shook his head as he dumped his cold-weather gear onto the holochess table aboard the _Falcon_. He shed his heavy parka next and tossed it atop the rest. Sometimes, he still couldn’t figure out his partner. One minute Chewbacca would suggest that they continue to help out the Rebels then the next prod Han with the fact that Jabba the Hutt was anything but a patient or forgiving being. A lot of help that was.

If there was one benefit from riding a Tauntaun, it was the time it allowed Han to be alone with his thoughts. Although neither an easy nor a comfortable choice, Han realized that the outstanding debt to Jabba took precedence over his tentative love life or any of the other reasons he’d dredged up for hanging around with the Rebellion since rescuing the princess from the _Death Star_.

Events on Ord Mantell had proven that eventually one of countless bounty hunters or other opportunists would track him down. If he maintained his ties, he could unintentionally lead those bounty hunters to the very threshold of the Alliance, a tip for which the Empire would reward just as generously. Worse yet, Leia had already come under fire from people intent on collecting Jabba’s offered bounty. That single fact, more than any other, had frightened Han into making a decision. 

He’d once feared that if he left to meet Jabba on the Hutt’s terms, he would sacrifice whatever ground he’d gained with the princess. But he realized now it was his very procrastination that had forfeited any other option. If he had paid off the Hutt immediately, he maybe could have already returned and their entire situation could be different…but now, he realized, there was little chance he would survive to come back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

"Let’s start with that.” Leia leaned over the shoulder of her assistant and pointed to one particular figure that appeared on the man’s screen.

“Three thousand credits?” the soldier-cum-CPA questioned, glancing up at her.

“It’s not realistic, even for a base this small. Not since the Empire began the trade embargo on Methus Major.” She sighed at the harsh reality of their limited monetary resources. Public support for the Alliance was increasing since their triumphant destruction of the Imperial _Death Star_ , but so were their expenses. Warfare was not a cheap undertaking. “Change it to seven. We’ll just have to cut somewhere else.”

The man grunted, lost in thought. They both studied the readout in silence, searching for a possible candidate for cutbacks.

Abruptly, Leia had the distinct feeling that she was being watched. She dragged her eyes away from her work and turned to discover Han Solo poised within the entrance to the Command Center. He was staring back at her. It was an electrifying connection and for an agonizing eternity, she didn’t know how to react. Ever since her inadvertent and humiliating episode with the intercom system a few days ago, she’d managed to avoid him. Then again, it hadn’t been difficult. In fact, she had the distinct impression he’d been avoiding her. Was it possible that he’d somehow missed the event, and that none of the gossipers on base had felt duty-bound to fill him in on every sordid detail? That seemed improbable. More likely, he was allowing the tension to build until he saw fit to gloat. That would be more Han’s style.

She maintained a cold demeanor as she broke their mesmerizing exchange and turned away. Let him come to her if he had something to say.

A moment later, Leia overheard Solo begin a conversation with General Rieekan and she couldn’t help but turn back. The two were standing at her empty post beside Lieutenant Aldric. 

“Commander Skywalker reported in yet?” Rieekan queried.

“No,” Han answered. “He’s checking out a meteorite that hit near him.”

“With all the meteor activity in this system, it’s going to be difficult to spot approaching ships.”

There was an instant of uncomfortable silence that Leia could sense from across the room, then Han switched topics and announced loud enough for anyone prone to listening, “General, I’ve got to leave. I can’t stay anymore.”

Leia felt her soul splinter into painful fragments as she witnessed Solo’s declaration. Until that moment, she’d convinced herself that his renewed threats to leave had been just that—threats.

“Princess?”

The illusion was over. Han’s decision to move on was now very official and very real. Fear, anger, and desperation warred within Leia. Each emotion demanded immediate action but she couldn’t choose which impulse to obey.

“Princess?”

Leia pulled her gaze away from the departing smuggler to find her assistant gazing up at her. “Perhaps our estimated costs for supply transports could be recalculated?”

 _They certainly will be if Han leaves._ Without answering him, Leia looked back in time to see the general shaking hands with Solo in a respectful farewell.

“You’re a good fighter, Solo. I hate to lose you.”

“Thank you, General.”

With visible expectation, and what Leia swore was trepidation, Han Solo turned on his booted heel, heading in her direction. 

_Oh Goddess, not here in the Command Center!_

Her strongest impulse now was to run but there was only one pathway out, and he was blocking it. She maintained a glacial facade as the smuggler drew near, even as her fingers dug a little deeper into the cushioned headrest of the accountant’s chair.

Han’s face, on the other hand, was anything but devoid of emotion. What Leia saw was perhaps one of the most honest and hopeful expressions she’d ever observed on the smuggler’s mobile face, certainly since they’d returned from Ord Mantell. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to melt once more for him, right there in front of everyone.

“Well, Your Highness, I guess this is it.”

The look of invitation caused Leia’s heart to nearly pound right out of her chest, but she’d been trained by the best. No appeasement, no surrender, no matter the color of his eyes. “That’s right,” she said in a soft and far too agreeable voice that left no room for debate.

Her response was obviously the last one Solo had expected. He failed at camouflaging the injury she’d inflicted by so easily accepting his departure, and swiftly assumed his familiar, well-worn sarcastic tone, but there was real anger and hurt beneath it. “Well, don’t get all mushy on me. So long, Princess,” he sneered, then pivoted around and marched toward the exit.

Leia turned to watch him storm away, her own emotions in a surging turmoil. _What am I doing?!_ A very real part of her desperately wanted him to stay and yet she kept shoving him away with every biting word. Frantic, she glanced around before her eyes settled on Lieutenant Aldric, who had turned in her seat to witness the confrontation. 

Keris seemed to read the princess’ cry for help and made a simple gesture as she pointed toward the exit. Leia hesitated, without the slightest idea what she would say if she caught up with Han. Keris repeated the gesture with added insistence. “Go,” she mouthed impatiently.

With a silent curse, Leia surged toward the exit and almost fell when she tripped over one of the cables lying across the floor. She reached out, grabbing hold of the closest computer bank to regain her balance, and then rushed out the exit and into the corridor with as much decorum as she could muster.

“Han!”

Solo had almost disappeared around the corner of the hallway, but he stopped and swung around upon hearing her shout. “Yes, Your Highnessness?”

As she marched up to him, Leia could see that he was in no mood to talk. Such reluctance was something new. In the past, he’d always encouraged their confrontations. She planted herself in front of him, determined not only to get an explanation for his latest change of heart but also to make her regal bearing match his advantage in height. “I thought you had decided to stay.”

“Well, the bounty hunters we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind.”

 _Ord Mantell._ How she’d come to hate that name! She knew Han was in serious danger, and was right in his decision to go. She _knew_ that. He was a danger to them all now. How could she argue with such common sense?

“Han, we need you!” she blurted out, hardly even aware of what she was saying. Her exclamation echoed as loudly in her head as it did down the icy tunnel. She watched Han’s calculated reaction and realized the magnitude of her slip.

“‘ _We_ need’?” he threw back at her, radiating frustration.

Leia tried to look as if it were self-evident. “Yes.”

“Oh, what about ‘ _you_ need’?” Solo poked a finger at her to emphasize his point. 

“‘ _I_ need’?” He’d never been so blatant and insistent, and it left her stunned. What did he want from her, anyway—a proclamation of undying love? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Han audibly sucked his teeth and snapped his fingers in a rude dismissal. “You probably don’t.” He seemed to declare the game a draw as he began walking away.

Infuriated by his insult, she wasn’t about to let Solo get the last word this time. This entire ridiculous situation was his fault, after all. His long legs gave him an easy advantage, forcing her into a trot to keep up. “And what, precisely, am I supposed to know?”

She didn’t bother to keep her voice down, oblivious to the base personnel that attempted to carry out their various duties in the middle of a battlefield. She struggled to match the Corellian’s pace and nearly collided with one soldier who dodged to the side at the last moment.

“Come on!” Solo waved both hands in exasperation as he strode ahead of her, as if he were stating a case of fact to the jury of Rebels around them. “You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me.”

“Yes!” She felt like a holodisk stuck in repeat mode. How many times did she have to recite this litany? “You’re a great help to us. You’re a natural leader.”

Han stopped and turned back so fast that Leia skidded to a less-than-graceful halt to avoid crashing into him. He stabbed a finger at her. “No! That’s not it. Come on.”

For one brief instant, in her desperation, she considered telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. He must have seen it in her eyes because he jabbed a finger at her again. “Aahhh, come on.…”

The two combatants were forced to separate long enough to allow an innocent supplies-toting soldier to pass between them, and then Han leaned into her personal space with renewed intensity. He retracted the accusatory finger and tapped a thumb on his chest, leaving no doubt as to who had the upper hand. “Come on.”

“You’re imagining things,” she volleyed in a tone that failed to convince either of them. 

Han Solo pounced. “Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a good-bye kiss?”

Leia felt her temper flare from the insinuation. She wasn’t the one who’d asked for a kiss back on Ord Mantell, or the other times he’d finagled one from her. She wasn’t the one who’d complained about how Luke was showered with friendly kisses for the simplest efforts while his own attempts to impress were rewarded with little more than a cautious thank-you and a multi-credit chip. The subject of kissing had _always_ been Han Solo’s obsession and button of irritation. In the heat of battle, Leia didn’t hesitate to push it now. “I’d just as soon kiss a Wookiee,” she declared, perversely proud of the flash of renewed anger she saw in his eyes.

“I can arrange that,” Han Solo retorted. He abruptly ended their argument and stormed away. “You could _use_ a good kiss!” he shouted over his shoulder, his baritone voice hoarse with aggravation.

Abandoned without the chance at a parting shot, Leia fumed. She glanced around in time to meet the masked smile of another Rebel soldier before he wisely ducked through the entrance to Supplies and disappeared. _Wonderful!_

Furious enough to growl, Leia headed back toward the Command Center. 

_Let the money-grubbing smuggler fly off if that’s what he wants so badly!_ She had enough troubles in her struggle against the Empire; she didn’t need this sort of pointless and unrewarding annoyance.

Leia sensed an instant change in the atmosphere of the Command Center when she returned. A few brave members of Headquarters personnel sneaked furtive glances but she ignored them. She didn’t doubt that every person in the Rebellion held an opinion regarding her and Captain Solo. In fact, she was tempted to pick up that blasted headset and put out a call for volunteers to handle her personal affairs directly from now on since she was doing such an abysmal job of it.

Leia neared her empty post and noticed Keris’s inquisitive gaze, but refused to acknowledge the silent question. She took her seat and stared at the comp screen, not moving.

A few minutes passed before General Rieekan dared to step up. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Your Highness.”

 _No kidding_ , Leia mused with a slow blink before glancing up. 

Seeing her expression, Rieekan appeared grateful that Leia Organa was fighting on his side of the war. “It’s just as I feared. There’s been a recent increase in the amount of Imperial Naval activity in this quadrant of the sector. It’s very possible they were able to track our relocation efforts to some extent. We need to restrict any air traffic going in or out for the time being, at least until our energy shields are up and operating.”

Leia remained unmoved for a moment as the varied implications of the general’s decision ran through her mind. She didn’t even want to think about the possibility of their having to move yet again when they hadn’t even finished setting up from the last evacuation. She was so tired of running, so tired of it all. Worse yet, she knew what Rieekan would say next. She could feel it.

“Of course, this restriction must extend to Captain Solo as well. We simply cannot risk drawing any further attention to Hoth. If the Empire detects his ship within this system, they’ll be curious why a lone freighter is so far from the main traffic routes. You can see the logic in this, can’t you, Your Highness?”

Surprised by General Rieekan’s qualifying question, as if he needed her approval, Leia nodded in total agreement. Understaffing matters aside, she held no military rank within the Alliance command. The niche she had carved out for herself was one of supplies and economics. 

“Normally,” Rieekan continued in a lower tone, visibly uncomfortable, “considering your…acquaintance with Captain Solo, I would ask you to deliver the bad news, but…after taking recent developments into account, perhaps it would be wiser if I spoke with him myself.”

Leia barely contained a petulant sigh. While Rieekan was an old family friend from her youth, it irked her to know he was allowing her personal life to influence his decisions. “Thank you, General, but I’m perfectly capable of handling the task myself.”  
“Very well, Princess.” As an afterthought, he added, “You might also ask Captain Solo if he’s seen Commander Skywalker yet. We’re having trouble with the comlink again and he’s been out of contact for some time.”

Rieekan was about to step away, but then he paused to grip her shoulder. It was a subtle but comforting gesture before he moved on to other business.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

_You’ve done some truly idiotic things in your life_ , Han berated himself, _but this is by far your best effort_.

As the Corellian stormed down the carved-out corridor in the direction of the hangar bay, he paid little attention to the base personnel diving to the sides to avoid a collision.

Like a fool who didn’t know when to quit, he’d basically thrown himself at Leia’s feet. _What did you expect? A full confession—another full confession!—right there in the middle of the Command Center?_ It was quite clear that Leia Organa’s affections were conditional and he couldn’t meet her terms. Any sensible man would’ve cut his losses and left. She was as much of a lost cause as her precious freedom fighting…so why couldn’t he just give her up as lost?

His pace slowed and he watched his breath puff out in a frosty cloud of white. Only three days and already he’d grown to loathe Hoth. The climate seemed to match Leia’s disposition—she’d become about as malleable and passionate as an icicle. He knew she struggled to maintain her chilly facade; he hadn’t forgotten how much she’d responded on that hotel couch, and he wasn’t deaf. Princess Leia still wanted him, that was a fact, but he _had_ to leave and he couldn’t think of a single damned thing he could do to fix anything.

Han reached the hangar bay just as the personal comlink clipped to his holster belt gave a high-pitched chirp. He unhooked the small device, raised it to his mouth, and triggered the link. “Solo here.”

“You need to come back to the Command Center.” The feminine voice, alto and all-too-familiar, sounded contrite, almost.

Han scowled down at the comlink as he ground to a halt. “What I _need_ , Your Worship, is to get as far away from this Gods-be-damned chunk of ice—”

“Han, would you just shut up and listen for—”

The satisfaction Han experienced as he switched Leia off mid-tirade was short-lived. Now angrier with himself than with the original source of his annoyance, Han resumed his march through the length of the ice cavern. _You are one prize-winning fool_.

The ambient light and air temperature within the hangar bay was dropping with the advance of night outside. Han wove his way through the parked X-wings to avoid getting trampled by one of the returning Tauntaun patrols. He spied his copilot standing beneath the _Falcon_ ’s hull, surrounded by a jumbled assortment of tools and scavenged parts. Chewbacca must have found something to occupy his time after all, but as Han drew near, he saw the Wookiee’s solution to boredom and his precariously balanced temper tilted.

“Chewie, what’re you doing?!” Frantic, Han ducked under the hull of the Falcon and ran a hand through his hair as he eyed the present state of his ship’s disassembled central lifters. It would be a full day’s work just to put everything back together.

Chewbacca looked up, mystified. «You told me to find something to do.»

Amazed that he hadn’t yet developed a persecution complex thanks to the combined efforts of his best friend and the princess, Han explained as if to a child, “I meant refasten the cable housing…flush the hyperdrive coolant…polish the decks!” Han furiously waved at the Falcon’s dismantled lifters. “Why do you take this apart now? I’m trying to get us out of here, and you pull both of these?!”

«Don’t yell at me,» Chewbacca defended himself. «It isn’t my fault you can’t make up your mind—»

“Excuse me, sir.” See-Threepio butted in with his usual atrocious timing, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

Now mad at his partner’s accusation, Han ignored the interruption and pointed a commanding finger at the scattered parts. “Put them back together. Right now!”

“Might I have a word with you, please?” Threepio insisted.

Still raging, Han swung around and directed a cross expression at the golden protocol droid. “What do _you_ want?”

Threepio seemed to only now register Han’s mood. His took a defensive step back. “Well, it’s Princess Leia, sir. She’s been trying to get you on the communicator.”

Han glowered even more. Now the Ice Princess was sending Threepio after him—a dirty tactic, even for her. “I turned it off. I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Oh.” Clearly not certain how to interpret the Corellian’s answer, Threepio continued. “Well, Princess Leia is wondering about Master Luke. He hasn’t come back yet. She doesn’t know where he is.”

Baffled that a protocol droid this incompetent could ever make it off the assembly line, Han shook his head. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Nobody knows where he is.”

All of Han’s anger washed away in a tsunami of concern. “What do you mean ‘ _nobody_ knows’?”

“Well, uh, you see—”

Not waiting for Threepio’s long-winded explanation, Han stepped past him and headed for the flight line. “Deck Officer! Deck Officer!”

“Excuse me, sir.” Threepio turned to follow the smuggler, even as the on-duty deck officer trotted towards them. “Might I inqui—”

Han clamped a hand over the droid’s voice-coder, muffling his chatter as Deck Officer Tibbert snapped to attention before him.

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you know where Commander Skywalker is?” Han asked.

“I haven’t seen him.” The Rebel soldier relaxed as he shrugged. “It’s possible he came in through the south entrance.”

“‘It’s _possible_ ’?” Peeved by what he considered a lax attitude, Han pointed a stern finger at the officer’s chest. “ _Why_ don’t you go find out? It’s getting dark out there.”

“Yes, sir.” Chastised, Tibbert nodded and raced off to carry out the civilian smuggler’s orders without question.

Threepio, now released from Solo’s muzzling hand, trailed after him as the Corellian headed for the _Falcon_ ’s boarding ramp. “Excuse me, sir. Might I inquire what’s going on?”

Mind already elsewhere, Han simply answered. “Why not?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

"Comm Control, this is Deck Officer Tibbert.”

“This is Comm Control,” Lieutenant Aldric answered as she reached to adjust the external volume at her console. “Go ahead.”

“Set screen alpha. We’ve got two Tauntaun riders going out.”

Conditioned to follow such orders without question, Keris was mid-task before the implications of the request seemed to sink in. She paused to glance up to her left at the time displayed in glowing numbers on the chronometer. Echo Base’s protective shield doors were scheduled to close within minutes. “Please repeat that, Major. I didn’t copy.”

“Set screen alpha. We’ve got two Tauntaun riders heading out. Echo Seven and Echo Two.”

Keris redirected her gaze to the young princess seated at the post to her left. Leia’s attention had instantly focused on the request as well; Echo Seven was Han Solo’s designation. It only took Leia a moment to spring out of her seat, headset in hand. She moved closer to peer over Keris’s shoulder at the comm-tracking screen.

“This is Princess Leia,” she spoke as she took over the communication from Keris. Leia nudged her friend and indicated that she should carry out the request to reset the quadrant tracking device. “Their going out at this time is a direct breach of regulations, Major. No one is allowed outside past oh-nineteen-hundred. Tell them to stand down.”

“I’m aware of that, Your Highness. I was unable to stop Captain Solo, short of armed force. Since he isn’t officially enlisted—”

“Yes, yes,” Leia ground out between clenched teeth, tired of hearing that unavoidable fact. “You’re hardly responsible for his actions. Give your communicator to Captain Solo. I’d like a word with him.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but he’s already left. Commander Skywalker hasn’t reported in yet, and the Captain refused—”

“Luke is still out there?!”

The headset Leia held up to her mouth slipped from numbed fingers and clattered onto the console. Keris caught the headset and handed it back, but she was clearly alarmed to see how blanched the princess’ features had become. “Leia?”

Vaguely aware that she’d recovered the headset, Leia felt as if she were running on autopilot. Ignoring Keris’s soft query, she spoke into the headset mike. “Has Echo Two left yet?”

“No, Your Highness. He’s following your orders.”

Leia nodded to no one in particular. “Carry on, Major. I’ll notify the general. Comm Control out.” She laid the headset down and stared at the blue screen before them, watching as the isolated white dot that signified Echo Seven made slow progress across Hoth’s frozen and windswept surface. Due to the combination of faulty equipment and horrendous weather, Han’s transponder signal had already begun to flicker.

“The signal’s growing weak,” Keris quietly pointed out, her words snapping the princess out of her catatonia.

“I’m going to the hangar bay,” Leia announced. She’d yet to pull her eyes away from the screen, but at least she’d made a positive decision. “I’ll be back. Call me the instant either of them signals in.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

The base shield doors were still open, half an hour behind schedule. The temperature drop within the hangar deck was becoming painfully uncomfortable but no one complained. The news of Commander Skywalker and Captain Solo’s absence had spread throughout the base already. Although few believed either man would survive the night, Princess Leia was not alone in keeping a vigil within the cold ice cavern.

Leia was the only person, however, who had no official excuse to linger within the hangar and she was aware of that fact. She attempted to look busy but then admitted to herself that she wasn’t fooling anyone and gave up the effort. She paced back and forth between two partially dissembled X-wings, her gloved hands clasped tightly to prevent them from picking at the seams of her cold-suit.

Without conscious volition, Leia paused to gaze upon the _Millennium Falcon_ ensconced within a side alcove. More often than not, the old freighter was bathed in the harsh light of floodlamps as her crew labored to repair the latest damage inflicted by the Empire. Now she sat in more flattering shadows, any evidence of her age and abuse hidden. She looked sleek and powerful and full of potential. Mesmerized by the sight, Leia realized just how much the battered freighter embodied her captain; she’d never stopped to look closer and appreciate what wasn’t so obvious at first glance.

Leia couldn’t help but marvel at the change in her own opinion towards the ship. There’d been times when she’d outright distrusted the space-worthiness of the aged craft. Granted, she still had her doubts, but after two years of dodging Imperial pursuit along with the normal hazards of space, Leia had to confess a real admiration for the ship’s durability, grace, and speed. She was beginning to understand Solo’s affection for the _Falcon_. He seemed to know class when he saw it.

No sooner had the thought occurred to her than an unexpected blush tinted Leia’s cheeks. Before she could counter the response, the heated flush escalated to welling tears. She steeled herself and drew a deep breath, refusing to get emotional. Tears were undignified and pointless. Crying wouldn’t change the fact that Han and Luke were lost in the raging blizzard outside, nor would it erase the bitter untruths she’d said to Han because of a selfish fear of being hurt. Crying wouldn’t fix all their stupid and wasteful arguments and it wouldn’t rescue them now. She drew another deep gulp of air.

«Princess?»

Leia nearly jumped out of her thermal boots at hearing the gentle rumble at her side. She hadn’t detected Chewbacca’s approach. Aware that she’d failed to mask her emotions, her blush intensified into embarrassment. Although still not satisfactorily fluent in his language, Leia didn’t need translation to understand the look in the Wookiee’s blue eyes. Words were unnecessary right now.

The special affinity she felt with Chewbacca stretched as far back as their escape from the _Death Star_. During the following two years, he’d often sided with her during her arguments with Solo, though she suspected the Wookiee’s motives to be more mischievous than noble. Chewie often served as an anchor of reality when others’ obsessions threatened to overpower common sense.

«Will you be all right?» Chewbacca asked, careful in his enunciation for her benefit.

Not ready to trust her voice yet, Leia gave a hesitant nod. Despite the surge of friendly warmth from her friend, Leia needed to wrap her arms around herself in an effort to fight off the growing chill. She couldn’t imagine a worse situation and yet here was Chewbacca, worried about her. She felt a pang of guilt at her own selfish indulgence. _Pull yourself together, Organa. You can’t do anything for them now except hope, and be strong for Chewie._ She cleared her throat and offered a weak smile.

Chewbacca tipped his head as he watched the princess. For an immeasurable amount of time, they shared a silent communion of fear and hope. Then Leia closed her eyes and bounced on the balls of her feet as a strong gust of cold air swept through the hangar. Chewbacca shifted away to lean against a ceiling support strut, where he observed Artoo and Threepio as they returned from the base entrance, giving up on their own valiant attempts to detect Han and Luke. The princess resumed her nervous pacing. She then came to a stop, and Chewie followed her gaze to see the Deck Officer Tibbert as he trotted in her direction. She dared to hope for good news, but her hopes crumbled when the soldier stopped short and reported to Major Derlin first, who’d been overseeing their limited rescue operations from nearby.

“Sir, all the patrols are in. Still no—”

Major Derlin put up a silencing hand and both their gazes swung to focus on Leia, within earshot. The deck officer nodded once and finished in a more subdued voice. “Still no contact from Skywalker or Solo.”

Leia turned away to avoid their looks of concern. She neither needed nor wanted their pity, and hated their obvious attempt to cushion the truth.

Threepio arrived at Leia’s side. “Mistress Leia, Artoo says he’s been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope.”

She was about to respond, but was distracted as Derlin and Tibbert finally approached her. She fought the impulse to run to her quarters and hide rather than bear the focused sympathy being directed toward her now.

“Your Highness,” Derlin said. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors _must_ be closed.”

While part of her was grateful for the major’s consultation, the rest of her wanted to cry out in soul-wrenching denial. Why did the Goddess insist on leading her into making the final moves in this lethal holochess game, until she no longer had any stakes left to win or lose?

Major Derlin remained silent, awaiting her response, though they both knew the answer—there was no choice. At Leia’s slight nod, he turned to the deck officer. “Close the doors.”

“Yes, sir.”

Leia felt as frozen in place as the surrounding stalagmites and stalactites, her eyes locked on the impenetrable blizzard of white outside that had begun with the setting of Hoth’s weak sun. She loathed the feeling of utter helplessness that flooded her. Han and Luke had come to mean more to her than she could ever have imagined, and now they were lost out in the frigid night and there was nothing more she could do.

Too soon, the two huge shield doors began to slide shut, the gears audibly objecting to the cold with a reverberating grumble that Leia could feel through the soles of her boots. Off to the side, Chewbacca added his own mournful howl of protest when the doors met with a soul-rending metallic clash of finality. The sound sent a shockwave through Leia. Acting on instinct, she closed her eyes and put all of her awareness and hope into a silent mental plea for them to hold on, that help would come as soon as daybreak.

“Artoo says the chances of survival are seven hundred seventy-five…to one.”

Leia opened her eyes an eternity later to find the glowing photoreceptors of Threepio observing her. She had no response.

“Actually,” Threepio continued after an awkward moment, his positronic brain calculating that his timing was wrong. “Artoo has been known to make mistakes...from time to time.” Accompanied by the protesting warble from Artoo-Detoo, Threepio shuffled away as he herded his noisome counterpart away from the princess. The two droids had finally picked up on the signs that Leia was in no mood to converse. “Oh dear, oh dear. Don’t worry about Master Luke. I’m sure he’ll be all right. He’s quite clever, you know…for a human being.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

Although it was her own downtime, Keris made her way to the Mess and retrieved two hot mugs of kaffe. With the intention of keeping Leia company—whether the stubborn Alderaani wanted it or not—she took a quick detour to her private quarters before heading for the Command Center. Keris entered the cramped headquarters and found Leia right where she’d left her, entrenched at the com tech station. She must have insisted on working the evening shift tonight because Sergeant Simel, Keris’s nighttime replacement, was nowhere in sight. The princess was bowed forward, eyes closed, an elbow propped upon the countertop and her temple resting upon a fist. The screen was actively scanning but remained void of any telltale blips signaling the missing men. 

Keris shook her head at this latest demonstration of her friend’s obstinacy. There was no mystery as to Leia’s persistence; Han Solo and Luke Skywalker were lost out on the blizzard-swept glacier outside. The pain showed in her pale, haunted features. The artificial illumination from the glow panels above combined with the steady blue glow of the com tracking screen added to her unhealthy cast. She appeared to have aged years within the past few hours. 

Keris seated herself at Leia’s usual post and waited for a reaction. The princess opened her eyes but remained silent as she watched Keris place one of the steaming mugs before her.

“Here, thought you could use this.”

Leia drew a long breath, then lifted her head and straightened up in her seat. “Thank you.” She picked up the mug and took a cautious sip. A moment later, she sharply looked back to her friend. “What did you put in this?”

“Some Argusian whiskey I’ve hoarded. Thought you could use a little of that, too.”

Any other time, Leia might have been upset over the breach of regulations. Now, she seemed to accept the gesture with an appreciative nod before taking another sip.

Keris glanced at the empty screen in front of her friend. “Any word yet?”

“No.” Leia was making a commendable effort to remain impassive but Keris didn’t have to look too hard to see her fear and exhaustion.

“You’re tired, Leia. I’ll get Simel back in here so you can get some rest.”

Although she clutched her mug a little tighter, Leia shook her head in refusal. “No, I’m fine.” She met Keris’s eyes for a long soul-revealing moment, but then shrugged to break the contact. “Besides, I don’t think I could sleep right now if I tried.”

Experiencing a flash of insight, Keris tipped her head in empathy at her young friend. “This isn’t your fault, Leia.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Leia snapped. She fell silent as she sank back in her seat and stared into the spiked liquid within her mug. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone here knows that you’re very close friends.”

“It isn’t fair,” Leia whispered.

Keris looked up from her own mug and watched the thoughts that were battling for position on the princess’ face. “To them or to you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” she admitted. “To die like this would be so…senseless. And for me…I’ve lost everything else in my life that ever meant anything to me. Those two came along at a time when…when there was nothing left for me to believe in. They were both there when I needed them…when I needed a reason to keep living and fighting.” She closed her eyes and fell silent for a long, thoughtful moment. “They rescued me again.”

“Let me tell you something, Leia.” Keris reached over to grasp the princess’ hand in her own. Leia’s dark eyes opened to meet hers. “About the last thing I said to my husband, the day he was killed….”

Leia’s breath escaped in a harsh sigh as she seemed to be empathically swept up in the unanticipated wave of anguish that radiated from Keris in that moment. The passage of nearly four standard years may have allowed Keris to accept the death of her life mate, but the grief and longing never really went away. For the first time since they’d known one another, she allowed Leia to see just how deeply that pain ran.

Keris allowed the slightest trace of a wistful smile to return to her features. “I told him that I loved him.… Sometimes, I think that’s the only reason I’ve been able to carry on.” Keris paused to measure her words. “Tomorrow, when the patrols bring Solo and Skywalker back safely, maybe you should tell them what you just told me.”

Leia took a moment to absorb this. “Tell them….”

“Why not?”

Leia opened her mouth, but then closed it as her dark eyebrows drew together in frustration.

Keris shrugged. “It’s not like it’s much of a secret anymore.”

Leia groaned. “You make it sound so easy.”

And Keris realized that this conversation had suddenly narrowed down to just one. “So confirm his suspicions. Who knows? Telling him the truth might solve half of your problems. He might even surprise you.”

The princess peered into her warm drink as if her future could be seen within the swirling darkness.

“Ten more minutes, Princess, and then I’m calling Simel back in here. Got that?”

A little surprised by the order, Leia seemed to lose her train of thought. “Are you pulling rank on me?”

The lieutenant’s grin turned to pure mischief. “I can try. I’m willing to bet the rest of that bottle of whiskey that Rieekan would back me up.”

Leia managed to keep a straight face for a few moments, then couldn’t help the little smile that broke out. “You certainly can…but it won’t be necessary.”

“Good.” Keris settled more comfortably into her chair and took a long sip from her mug. “You’re learning fast.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

The initial coming of dawn brought no relief to Leia’s fears; if anything, the tension had increased tenfold. As soon as the base shield doors had rolled open, a flight of hastily adapted Snowspeeders had been sent out to conduct the delayed search. It was nearly an entire hour before Zev Senesca, acting leader of Rogue Squadron, radioed in to announce that he’d located the missing men. All he’d reported was that Luke’s condition was dire and there was no time to send send additional help. Once again, Leia stood within the chilly base hangar, trying to keep herself warm and her thoughts on anything but the two glaring absences within the base and her life. The waiting was what Leia loathed most, for there was nothing she could do to speed up the passage of time.

In the night, at Keris’s insistence, Leia had retreated to her friend’s quarters. With uncanny timing, the heating unit in Leia’s own quarters had evidently malfunctioned and melted the ceiling, flooding her tiny cubicle. Exhaustion had won out and she’d fallen asleep on Keris’ cot, but her subconscious mind had continued to torment her. 

She desperately wanted them back, but at the same time worried how Han would react to a real confession. Would he laugh in her face or simply tease? Worse yet, would he find her emotions quaint? As much as she’d always appreciated his unfailing sense of humor, would he be unable to take her seriously now?

Or would Han take her hand, embrace her with a passion she could never doubt, and admit that he’d loved her from the start as well? Leia felt certain that if he indeed fulfilled any of those better fantasies, collected since the first days of their meeting, she would probably crumble on the spot.

Her dreams had been such a vivid collage of those secret joys and fears that the images continued to linger in the back of her mind. She struggled to follow the current discussion she’d inadvertently joined with Deck Officer Tibbert. He was proposing solutions to the various problems that extreme temperatures presented during equipment maintenance, but it was all she could do to hide her distraction.

The warning blare of a horn told them to clear a path as a Snowspeeder approached from outside. Leia could feel her heart thump harder as she turned in time to see the small two-man craft glide into the hangar bay and slow to a halt in the center of the flight deck. It was swarmed over by deckhands and a medical droid the moment it touched down.

Knowing she would only get in the way, Leia resisted the impulse to join in the pressing crowd. Instead, she remained at a distance and looked on as Chewbacca, heads taller than everyone else, waded through the flight deck personnel. He reached the side of the craft just as the cockpit canopy began to rise up on its rear hinges.

Zev, the Rebel pilot, stripped off his flight headgear and twisted around within the tight confines of the cockpit. He knelt in his seat and helped the Wookiee lift the unresponsive form of Commander Skywalker from the gunner’s position of the speeder. Once clear of the cockpit, Chewbacca lowered Luke down to the medics waiting below.

Leia watched in horror as the medical team rushed the young man past her in the direction of the base Med Center. Though she experienced an urge to follow, Leia returned her gaze to the Snowspeeder. Solo was levering himself up and out from the same cramped seat he’d shared with the injured Skywalker. Chewie was right there to gather the Corellian up in a mighty embrace before helping him clamber down to the icy floor.

Leia closed her eyes and nearly sobbed aloud with relief as she finally allowed the pent-up tension to flow out of her. Han seemed fine and Luke would surely recover—they’d all be fine now. Drawing a deep breath, she lifted her head and opened her eyes in time to see the dispersing crowd suddenly part to the sides, forming a path for Han as he headed in her direction. Any courage she’d rallied for her confession dissipated like so much steam in the cold air.

Han closed the distance between them, his color-shifting eyes focused on her own with an intensity Leia could feel. Her knees threatened to buckle and her surroundings faded away to unimportance under the power of that hungry stare.

His serious expression lingered as he seemed to savor the moment. His firmly compressed lips melted into a little smirk and he broke their mutual silence with a simple request: “Don’t give me another medal, Leia.”

Leia was forced to shift her attention from contemplation of his smile to analysis of his words. She opened her mouth, only to find herself without a verbal retort. Han clearly took pride in that achievement because his smile broadened.

 _Say something, you idiot!_ Leia searched frantically for a safe topic and settled on his health. “You should report to the Med Center.” That wasn’t what she’d wanted to say, and she could tell by Han’s fading expression of amiability that he’d expected something better as well.

“I’ll survive, Your Worship.” As if he’d reached some internal decision, Han shook his head. “I’m going to the _Falcon_ to take a long, hot shower. If you want me…you’ll know where to find me.” As if he’d anticipated a positive response to his invitation, Solo paused before turning toward his ship.

Leia watched Solo walk away, half-tempted and half-infuriated. Never had she dreamed that telling Han how much she wanted and cared for him could be this difficult. Even her never-ending struggle to defeat the Empire had begun to seem less epic.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

One could surmise that the Med Center was the most comfortable chamber in the entire hidden Rebel base. It was certainly the warmest, and Leia appreciated the relative heat.

The tension was far from over, however. Han had seemed to emerge from the freezing temperatures of a Hoth night with a mild case of hypothermia but an acute case of attitude. Luke, on the other hand, was still listed in critical condition with severe frostbite, hypothermia, a mild concussion, and a physical mauling to his face for which Leia had yet to hear an explanation.

At the moment, she, Chewbacca, Threepio, and Artoo were sharing a tiny observation room connected to the surgical ward by a clear plastiglas window. Han was still absent. For a fleeting instant she recalled how wonderful it had felt to have him standing close beside her when they’d been back on Ord Mantell and wished he were there now so she could feel his reassuring presence as she watched Too-Onebee, the Rebel base’s surgeon droid, strip away the blood-soaked thermal suit from Skywalker’s inert body.

A more rational part of her mind repressed that desire as she remembered her latest encounter with Han following his return a short while ago. Leia felt her jaw clench in vexation at the memory. He’d walked away without another word, leaving her to mull over his suggestive taunt. He baffled her. One minute, he would push her away; the next, he would try to pull her back. What was she supposed to do other than feel like she was being torn in half?

Leia tugged off one of her fitted thermal gloves and pressed her bare hand, fingers splayed and palm flat, against the clear partition separating her from the events in the next room. The medical droids had stripped Luke down to his undershorts in order to run diagnostics before immersing him in the healing Bacta tank. Luke was in the best medical care the Alliance had access to and yet she couldn’t help feeling as if she might somehow help his healing. Maybe even ease his pain. _Luke, how many times does it have to be this close?_

Too often, she’d taken Luke’s freely given friendship for granted. Guilt haunted her now because most of her thoughts during the night centering on Han. Luke deserved much more devotion from her than that. He shared her beliefs, her convictions, her hopes and desires to win this costly war. _Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with you?_ He would have welcomed it at one time before he’d come to know her, before he’d realized her feelings for him were different.…

The door at the far wall behind her slid open with a hiss and Leia turned to see Han Solo enter the room. His gaze went straight to her before shifting to the scene behind the sheet of plastiglas.

Chewbacca, standing to one side, tipped his head and softly barked, «Are you feeling better?»

“Yeah,” Han answered simply. He strode up to the clear wall, sharing yet another look with the princess as he neared her and Threepio. He nodded his head in the direction of the other room. “They say anything yet?”

Leia shook her head. Unable to make eye contact now that Han stood beside her, she looked down and pulled her glove back on. She felt flushed.

Artoo-Detoo rolled forward to settle beside See-Threepio as he emitted a short stream of beeps and whistles. Threepio patted his companion’s domed top. “Of course, Artoo.” The golden droid turned back to Han. “Captain Solo, Artoo and I would like to express our relief at seeing you back safely, and we would also like to thank you for rescuing Master Luke.”

Han gave a little shrug. “You’re welcome, Goldenrod.” 

Leia could sense his gaze on her again. She hadn’t uttered but a handful of words to him since his return, and yet she was bursting with things to say. Why was it so difficult?

“Your Highness,” a gentle voice from the medical droid came over the PA speakers within their observation chamber, “you requested an update on Commander Skywalker’s condition?”

“Yes, Too-Onebee.” Leia redirected her attention to the next room. “Will he be all right?”

“Yes, Your Highness, but it is too soon to know at this moment whether he will make a complete recovery. Momentarily, we will immerse him in the tank. The Bacta will help speed up his own healing functions.”

“Very well. Please keep me updated, Too-Onebee.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

The small group watched in silence as the medical droids worked on their friend. Within moments, Luke’s limp body was suspended within a harness and lowered in to the reddish, living ooze known as Bacta. Within moments of being submerged, he began to thrash about.

Disturbed by Luke’s violent motions, Leia looked to Han in alarm. “Why is he fighting like that?”

“You’ve never been in a Bacta tank?” Han asked in a gentle tone.

“No. Have you?”

“Bacta works wonders but it has to enter every damaged cell to do it. It’s not the greatest feeling, Sweetheart.”

Resisting the desire to probe further into Han’s past, Leia turned back to watch Skywalker struggle against the painful onslaught of healing fluid. “What happened to his face?” she wondered aloud. It was obvious that something besides cold weather had inflicted the deep gashes on his young features.

“I don’t know.” Han let out a deep breath as he raised a supporting hand to lean against the wall, and tucked his other hand into his hip pocket. “I found him like that. He kept muttering something about that old Ben Kenobi and somebody named Yoda or something. He was already in shock.”

She turned to face him. “Han, I….” She’d been about to thank him, to tell him everything she’d been carrying around with her like a weight. However, her train of thought was derailed by the expression of wonder that now transformed the spacer’s face.

Han straightened up away from the wall and pulled his hand from his pocket, holding it up to display a golden coin. “Almost forgot. You dropped this a few days back.” Han closely watched her surprised reaction as he cocked his head and flashed a winning smile. “What were you doing with something like this?”

Hypnotized by the coin he still held between thumb and forefinger, the one she’d forgotten all about, Leia was at a loss. “What?”

“I know these are supposed to be lucky. Guess they were right. Is this your way of keeping me in your pocket, Princess?”

Leia felt her jaw drop yet again. She was beginning to feel like a Mon Calamari too long out of water. Indignant, she stuck out a hand to take the token back. “Listen, Flyboy—”

Han pulled his hand and the coin out of her reach. “Ah-ah-ah,” he teased. With a merciless grin, he proceeded to tuck the membership token back into his pocket, patting it with exaggerated affection. “You never know—I may need it again.”

Provoked beyond tolerance and still incapable of coming up with a single word, Leia debated her options. A strategic and dignified retreat was in order. She plotted and executed a course for the exit.

“Was it something I said?” Han queried with an innocence that should have strained some major muscle group.

Leia had already reached the door, but his insincere question made her spin around. She was not going to let him get the last word in this time “Keep the coin. You’re going to need it if you think Rieekan’s going to let you off this planet any time soon.” She paused long enough to see Han’s expression transform yet again, and was gratified to see that it wasn’t a smug smile this time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

Leia once again found herself waiting, but this time she welcomed the delay as the Med Center’s untroubled peace surrounded her. She needed the quiet to regain her composure and reflect on the past few days. She felt herself on a careening course over which she had no control. Reacting to events as opposed to anticipating them was a poor way to run her life and she knew it. Somehow, the knowing didn’t make the stopping any easier.

Luke groaned and shifted in his slumber. Watching him from the opposite side of the tiny recovery room, Leia felt her concern for him displace her bout of self-doubt. Too-Onebee had reassured her that Luke was now on his way to a full recovery, but she still couldn’t ease the ache of worry. She wondered if he would always bear the scars that even Bacta couldn’t erase.

Seeing that Luke was still sound asleep, she settled back into the chair. It was just as well that he wasn’t conscious; she wasn’t in the most sociable mood yet. She could feel her blood begin to simmer at the mere thought of Han Solo.

Where was the smuggler now? Leia felt a wicked grin creep over her face as she drew her legs up to sit atop them, propping her bent elbow on an arm rest and a chin upon her fist. He was probably chewing General Rieekan’s ear off at that very moment. _Better him than me._ She was tired of having to shoulder that rather onerous privilege alone; let Rieekan deal with the troublesome spacer this time.

 _Spacers!_ She’d forgotten all about that damned coin. No surprise that Han had misinterpreted how or why she’d come to possess such an incriminating item. He was wrong, of course, but it would be a wasted effort to explain that the lucky charm had been an unsolicited gift from a sadly deluded friend. From his very manner, Leia knew he believed he held an advantage over her. Well, he was in for a rude awakening if he’d indeed tracked Rieekan down.

She couldn’t deny a deep curiosity for the merhant spacer subculture, but it was part of her job, wasn’t it? She needed to understand it in order to work with them, arranging shipment and underground trade routes. The fact that Han was part of that culture was a coincidence, wasn’t it? There was no reason for him to be so smug about it. Yes, she sometimes liked being around him, and relished his vitality and sense of humor, but other times his ever-flexing ego was enough to make her bend durasteel with her teeth. She was accustomed to chivalrous courting and nice men who catered to her wishes, not snide backtalkers who made erotic proposals and necked with her on couches, only adding fuel to inappropriate fantasies. Was something wrong with her to feel so attracted to a man so unlike anything she’d ever considered desirable?

“Leia?”

The princess snapped out of her reverie to find Luke wide awake. He was studying her from his reclined position. “You were far away,” he observed with a weak smile.

Avoiding the prompt, Leia unfolded herself from the chair, moved to settle on the edge of his bunk, and brushed a lock of blond hair from his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Seeming to appreciate her gentle touch, Luke closed his eyes. “Much better, but don’t stick me in that blasted Bacta tank again.”

“Don’t pull another stunt like that and you’ve got a deal.”

Luke had to chuckle but clearly regretted the movement as he winced. “Never thought I’d ever miss Tatooine, but it sure beats this place.”

“I know what you mean. Imagine it, Luke, I used to _like_ snow when I was a child.” She grinned at his mystified look. Without thinking, she reached to tuck the corners of Luke’s blanket closer around him. “So, are you going to tell me what happened out there?”

“I don’t really know,” Luke muttered. “I don’t know what attacked me, but—”

Leia’s dark eyes grew wide. “You were attacked?”

He shifted into a more comfortable position from which to talk. “Yeah, whatever it was whomped me right off my Tauntaun. When I came to, I didn’t stick around for a formal introduction, but I’m pretty sure I was lunch.”

“What was it? Could you describe it to someone in Security?” Now all business, Leia felt concern for the Rebel patrols out there now conducting surveillance. They needed to be warned if some unknown native predator was on the prowl.

“Sure, I think so. Give me a little time to think, okay?”

“Of course.” Relaxing, Leia offered a little smile of apology for being so methodical. “Whenever you feel ready.”

Luke nodded in acceptance but then frowned. “I don’t even know how I got back here. I remember….” He sighed at his attempt to describe an indescribable sensation. “It was a weird dream, maybe, but I remember Ben Kenobi saying something about going to someplace called Dagobah and finding a Jedi Master named Yoda.”

Because of the Empire’s genocide of the Jedi and the campaign of propaganda against their ilk that followed, most citizens these days knew little of the general teachings of the Force. Leia was an exception, being raised with a healthy background in the lore. She was familiar with the histories and legends, but that was a far cry from witnessing it in person, and she couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy as she listened to Luke speak of a very personal mystical experience. It was one thing to watch contraband holodisks about paranormal Force-users; it was something else to know one this closely. She felt a tickling up her spine and reached a hand up to rub the nape of her neck. She hoped he wasn’t experiencing delusions of wish-fulfillment; he’d suffered a blow to the head, after all.

“Han found you last night,” Leia changed subjects.

Alarmed, Luke propped himself up a little higher onto his pillow. “Is he all right? It was so cold and—”

“He’s fine,” she soothed. She reconsidered her words after a moment and shrugged. “Well, he’s normal. Normal for Han, anyway.”

Relieved, Luke relaxed again. “Why are you two still fighting?” he asked in mild amusement.

Leia’s attitude transformed into self-conscious avoidance; Luke could be so inconveniently perceptive at times. “It’s complicated.”

“Come on, Leia. Han and I were in the hangar bay when—”

The door to the little cubicle swished open with a suddenness that caused Leia to leap off the edge of Luke’s bunk. She watched as See-Threepio shuffled into the room, followed closely by his ever-present companion, Artoo. “Master Luke, sir, it’s good to see you fully functional again.” Artoo-Detoo rolled forward and twirled in a tight circle, emitting a string of enthusiastic beeps and whistles that echoed within the room. “Artoo expresses his relief, also.”

Before Luke could voice a reply, the door slid open once again and Han Solo, with Chewbacca in tow, joined them in the small recovery room. Without sparing a glance of acknowledgment toward her, Han leaned over Luke and gave him a healthy poke on the shoulder. “How you feeling, Kid? You don’t look so bad to me. In fact, you look strong enough to pull the ears off a Gundark.”

“Thanks to you,” Luke said with honest gratitude.

“That’s two you owe me, Junior.” Han held up two fingers to emphasize his point. Without further preamble, he then pivoted on his heel to face Leia. Propping himself on the edge of Luke’s bunk, he focused his attention, and a killer smile, on her.

Leia crossed her arms over her chest in a pose that she belatedly realized was more defensive than nonchalant but she recognized trouble when she saw it—Han Solo was trouble incarnate. And he was looking far too pleased with himself for her own peace of mind.

“Well, Your Worship, looks like you managed to keep me around for a little while longer.”

Leia restrained herself by gritting her teeth. Of all the names Solo regularly tagged on her, she hated that one the most. He must have lost the shouting match with Rieekan but was far from capitulation; his cocky stance shouted, _This isn’t over yet!_ Now he was resorting to twisting events to fit his own warped agenda.

“I had nothing to do with it. General Rieekan thinks it’s too dangerous for any ships to leave the system until we’ve activated the energy shield.”

“That’s a good story.” Looking far too satisfied, Han dropped the final sabacc card he’d been holding. “ _I_ think you just can’t bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight.”

Leia’s internal sirens were too late in sounding a warning of Han’s flank attack. He’d fired her own description of him back at her in such a casual manner that she felt dizzy. He’d played the long con, waiting for the right moment and then pouncing with all the lethal accuracy of a wild Pantera. Leia’s tactical retreat now threatened to become a full-scale rout. It was time for a defensive maneuver. “I don’t know where you get your delusions, Laserbrain.”

Chewbacca let out the Wookiee equivalent of a belly laugh, clearly tickled by the new name. He glanced down at his captain, awaiting a rebuttal. «Laserbrain.»

Solo shot a disgusted look at his copilot. “Laugh it up, Fuzzball.” He’d obviously expected such a dodge from her because he sprang off the bunk and moved to her side. “But you didn’t see us alone in the south passage.” As if posing for a family portrait, he wrapped a familiar arm around her shoulders, tugging her in tight to his side and flashing a massive smile to their small audience. “She expressed her true feelings for me.”

“My—?!” Provoked beyond tolerance and feeling like a Womprat backed into a corner, she struck out at the smuggler with a well-aimed knuckle into his ribs. He immediately released her and moved back towards Luke. “Why, you stuck-up…half-witted…scruffy-looking… _Nerfherder_!”

Han swung around. “ _Who_ ’s scruffy-looking?”

Leia abruptly ran out of steam. That was the last taunt she’d expected a reaction from. _He's a lunatic._

Han shared a conspiratorial glance with the reclined Luke before returning his accusing gaze to Leia. “I must’ve hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, Kid?”

That was the final insult. She waited for Luke to come rushing to her defense as usual, but was rudely disappointed when Luke changed sides mid-battle by answering Han’s rhetorical question with a hesitant nod. They both looked up to her as if awaiting an explanation.

“Well,” Leia stated with a finality that threatened retribution for the unexpected betrayal, “I guess you don’t know everything about women yet.” Not sure which man she was more perturbed with, she directed her broad statement at them both. On pure impulse, she marched to Luke’s bunk and bent over him. Steadying his head with both of her hands, she planted a firm and lengthy kiss on his mouth. When she finally broke off the embrace, she glared up and was rewarded by the grimace on Solo’s face. _Sort that out, Flyboy!_

«She got the ‘half-witted’ part just about right, if you ask me,» Chewbacca observed as he ended the stunned silence.

Too exasperated to bother acknowledging the Wookiee’s quip, Leia moved around the little clutch of shocked onlookers and exited the room. She didn’t need this sort of abuse. She would see to it that Solo was given clearance to leave, no matter what Rieekan said. Her heart would rip in two but she didn’t want to care about that anymore—she would get over it just like she’d gotten over all the other losses in her life.

Leia passed through the exit then paused in the middle of the main corridor, glancing up towards the carved-out ceiling as the public address system crackled to life from a hidden speaker. “Headquarters personnel, report to the Command Center immediately.” It was an oddly urgent command. Something was wrong on the base. Her breathing constricted with palpable tension as she resumed heading towards the Command Center.

“Leia!”

She continued walking, refusing to acknowledge the baritone voice. The hallway was deserted, of course, right when she needed a crowd to disappear into the most.

“Leia, wait up!”

 _Why can’t he just leave me alone?!_ She plowed to a stop and swung around, fists set on her hips, poised for further battle. Han mirrored her stance but then he deliberately relaxed and closed the distance between them, his gait loose and nonthreatening.

“We have to talk.”

A little disarmed by his actions—tantamount to a truce—Leia reflexively softened her own posture and tone. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

“You’re wrong.” Han stopped within reach of her and seemed to mull over an elaboration. “You know why I can’t stay.”

Leia felt her face grow warm under his intense gaze. “Yes, I know.” Her voice nearly betrayed her distress; after everything they’d been through together, she still couldn’t believe this was about to happen. There was bitterness in her defiance. “You’ve been telling me why for the past two years.”

Han nodded, not attempting to duck her verbal jab. “I deserve that.”

“Headquarters personnel.” The loud words echoed down the corridor once again. “Report to the Command Center immediately.”

Leia fought the urge to fidget. There was an emergency on the base but she was facing a crisis of her own right here in the hallway. Unable to comprehend Han’s uncharacteristic passivity, Leia felt her own hands clench at her sides. All she knew was that she couldn’t go on like this any longer. “I’ll see that you get your clearance to leave.”

“Leia,” Han ground out, his frustration beginning to show through again.

“I don’t have time for this, Han.” She began to turn away.

“Sooner or later, you’ve got to find the time!”

A flash of fury made her eyes narrow as she looked sideways at him. _How dare he? Who’s abandoning whom?_

“May the Force be with you,” Leia said the ancient farewell. Tearing her gaze away from his hazel eyes was no small task, but the princess turned her back on Solo and headed for the Command Center.

**The End**


End file.
